


of best friends, pining and oblivious match-making sisters

by 700wordsAmonth



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious Wynonna, One Shot, Pining, Second Person Narrator, Takes place in season 1, Wynonna POV, but it's kinda AU-ish, it doesn't follow the same timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/700wordsAmonth/pseuds/700wordsAmonth
Summary: "You come to realize that you actually like the deputy, despite your many, many differences. Nicole starts coming for drinks at Shorty's with you and Waverly, bonding with your baby sister far more easily than she has with you. (You think that that might be on you)."Wynonna has a new friend. She's just trying to get this friendship thing right while reading absolutely everything wrong.





	of best friends, pining and oblivious match-making sisters

If anyone had told you a year ago that you would become a cop, you would have laughed your entire bottle of whiskey through your nose. That was how likely this scenario was.

And yet, here you are, getting your ear yelled off by your boss. A very stick-to-the-rules boss. An ass of a boss. Who had an admittedly great ass, though. Such is life, with a great ass comes a great ass.

 

“You have to learn to collaborate with them. Things will run a lot smoother if we can count on the deputies for crowd control or for cleaning up the scene when we have one of our special cases, Earp.” Dolls explains, displeasure clear on his expression, though you're not sure that this isn’t his resting bitch face.

“If there’s one thing you’ll never see me doing, it’s collaborating with cops.”

“But _you’re_ a cop, Wynonna.” Waverly points out from behind a stack of books.

“ _Hey!_ Enough with the harsh truths.”

“Earp.” Dolls' face remained... his face.

“O _kay_ , I'll play ball,” you concede, if only to get them off your case. “But I choose my own liaison. Otherwise you might get me stuck with Nedley or, worse, Lonnie. I'd have to spend my days explaining my jokes.”

  

* * *

 

You end up opting for the still new to town Officer Nicole Haught. She is a bit too much of a goody two shoes for your taste, but at least she understands when you're making a joke at her expense. Few things are more of a mood killer than offending someone and having the person not understand the jab.

Unfortunately, Officer Haught mostly reacts by rolling her eyes and scoffing at you: the downside of people knowing when you're trying to get a rise out of them? They don't take the bait. Unless you go really, really deep. Which you did. Once. _Note to self_ : don't imply that you suspect your partner is a murderer and try to gaslight her into dropping her questions about the weird stuff that goes on in Purgatory. It tends to put a damper on friendship ties.

Nicole is strictly professional with you for three entire days after that. And she was already pretty professional on a good day. Eventually, though, you get things to go back to normal. After you cough out an apology.

 

* * *

 

You come to realize that you actually like the deputy, despite your many, many (you _cannot_ stress enough that there really are many) differences. Nicole starts coming for drinks at Shorty's with you and Waverly, bonding with your baby sister far more easily than she has with you. (You think that that might be on you).

 

“Wynonna, I'm not doing your paperwork for you.” Nicole says exasperated, but there's an amused almost-smile on her lips.

“But you're so much better at it.” You whine.

“That's called practice.”

Waverly chuckles and turns to Nicole, ready to tell on you like only siblings can. “I remember being 11 and helping her with her English homework.”

“Well, I was never bookish.”

“Wasn't Wynonna in the system around that time?” Nicole asks confused.

“Yea, but I'd come back every now and then. I used to have trouble staying put. And how about you, Red? You look like a teacher's pet.”

“Not so much, but I did alright.”

“Yea?” Waverly asks, her eyes glowing with interest. The academic dork. “What was your favorite subject?”

“Probably Gym?”

“ _Oh my god_ you were a jock.” You almost scream, taken by the joy of having another bit of info to make fun of Nicole with, but her smile seems unthreatened.

“A little bit, yea. But I also really liked Chemistry? Though it might've had more to do with the teacher than the experiments.”

You look at Waverly, _Haught for the teacher_ on the tip of your tongue, but she still has her eyes on Nicole, a soft smile on her lips. “It sounds like you were really sweet.”

You frown. _Sweet? She was_ _ **a**_ _**jock**_ _._ But Nicole's cheeks redden at the comment and – _of course_.

“Oh please tell me you banged the whole cheer squad.” You look at Waverly for support – again –, but now _she_ 's blushing too.

“I- _No_ , Wynonna. I was sixteen and gay. The sex life of queer teenagers is not all it's hyped up to be.”

You sip your beer. “That's fair.”

 

 

The drinks keep coming and somehow Waverly manages to lure Nicole to the dancefloor. The poor fucker. She's sober enough to stand and maybe walk, but definitely not enough to dance. Though it seems she might have problems in that department when sober too, based on Waverly's encouragements and countings of beat.

You prepare the camera on your phone and come closer to them because _this is prime blackmail material_.

 

“You're doing alright, just pay attention to the beat.”

“I think I'll need a lot more classes to be able to actually dance with you,” Nicole says, her words a little heavier in her mouth.

“Well, it would be my pleasure,” Waverly replies, color rising to her cheeks as she preens at the attention.

Nicole offers Waverly her killer smile, sparkling eyes and dimples and all, the one that softens even Gerta, the probably almost 90-year-old flower breeder who doesn't smile at anything that has no petals.

“Thank you, professor.”

_Boring._

You barely get any decent filming before the music changes and a rhythm that Nicole follows more easily comes on. She takes a few tentative steps, waiting for Waverly's approval before holding her more surely against herself and following the music.

Waverly's forehead settles against her chin, her left hand resting on Nicole's upper arm and this is no fun to film at all. You might as well sit down again and order another shot.

 

 

It gets late and you drive Nicole home. Well, Waverly drives her home, the most sober out of the three of you, but you're along for the ride. Nicole put up a good fight, but she was no competition for the Earp sisters when it came to liquor, so you make sure that she gets home okay.

 

 

“She's really sweet,” Waverly says on the way back to the homestead. “She's actually sweeter when she's drunk. How are you two friends?”

“She's sweet with you,” you point out. “All I get is _Wynonna, no_.”

“Wonder why that is.”

“ _Exactly._ ” You say excitedly, purposefully missing the point. “I think she needs to get laid.”

“ _What?_ ” Waverly's voice comes high enough to hurt your ears.

“That's right, baby girl, I'm gonna find Nicole some sweet ass.”

 

* * *

 

It's been a rare warm day in Purgatory's Fall. You walked around in a T and jeans under the warm sun and didn't feel the need to put your jacket on until after 5 pm. You're on your way out the cop shop when you notice Nicole organizing her table, almost ready to leave, and invite her over for a beer. She doesn't have to know it, but you killed two revheads today, you deserve a little celebration.

Nicole changes out of her uniform – apparently, she always keeps a change of clothes at work – and drives both of you to the homestead in her squad car.

 

 

Waverly is in the kitchen when the two of you arrive, a frown on her forehead that indicates not only concentration, but a migraine. She closes the couple of books she was pouring over when she notices Nicole following you into the kitchen.

“Hey, baby girl,” you say as you open the fridge, taking out two beers and handing one to Nicole.

“Hey,” Waverly replies, looking first at Nicole, then at you, “what's the occasion?”

“No occasion, can't I have a friend over?” You turn to Nicole, “don't let it get to your head.”

The right corner of her mouth raises in response, but she otherwise ignores you in favor of answering Waverly.

“Your sister invited me over for a beer, is that okay or are we going to disrupt your research?”

Waverly doesn't sigh, but her whole posture seems to relax. “Of course it's okay, you're always welcome here, Nicole.”

“Great hostess skills, Waves. Do you still have your senior yearbook?”

“Yea, of course,” she answers with a frown. “ _Ohh,_ is it for, you know, _research?_ ” She tries – and fails – to suggest _discreetly_ that she's talking about the Earp curse.

“Yea, I'm researching Nicole's next booty call.”

“You're _what?_ ” Nicole tries to ask, but swallows the beer down the wrong pipe halfway through it, resorting to finishing her question amidst coughing fits.

 

 

“Why don't you use Facebook for that?” Waverly asks from the other end of the small couch, her chin pretty much resting on Nicole's shoulder as she tries to see the eligible candidates.

“Because high school pictures are much more embarrassing.” You answer cheerfully. “How about Tiffany? She used to drink too much at parties and kiss her bff.”

“Tiffany Lorne?” Nicole asks, resting more fully against the couch, a confused frown making her not unsimilar to a pug.

“That’s the one.”

“Isn’t she married? Like, to Jake Lorne? With two kids?” She asks again.

Waverly adjusts herself to smooth her thumb over the small crinkle between Nicole's eyebrows, but remains tacitly out of the discussion.

“So? Some women are late lesbians, Nicole. Don't be a dick about it.”

“You don't even know if she-,” She sighs. “Let's just try to avoid married women, okay?”

“I'm trying to help you out here, dude, but this is Purgatory. Lower your expectations.”

You notice Waverly stirring beside Nicole, her cheeks with a little more color than they had just a minute ago, her eyes with a lot more fire.

“Don't listen to her, Nicole. You're great. You shouldn't settle for anything short of perfect.”

“Come on, Waves, I'm trying to get her laid, not married. Right, Nicole?” You turn to her, and she looks at Waverly and then at you with a pleased smile, as if this whole thing is amusing her instead of annoying. You're definitely losing your touch.

“Right,” she answers to humor you, an obvious wink sent towards Waverly.

 

* * *

 

This is a beautiful day. Nevermind that it rained for 13 hours straight and that it's actually already nighttime.

You place a cup of coffee on top of the stack of papers Nicole is working on with a proud smile on your lips, waiting for her to give you your cue.

Nicole sighs and relaxes her posture, letting the chair take her full weight. “What?”

“Waverly broke up with the one-hit wonder cowboy.” You're sure your grin already borders on maniacal by now.

Nicole looks shocked for a second, sitting straight and staring at you. “Seriously?”

“Yea, seriously.”

She seems to settle, then. “Good. She's the prettiest _and_ smartest girl in town. She can do a lot better.”

 _As if you don't know_.

“Dude, preaching to the choir. Though, in this tiny anus of a town, I don't think there's a single soul good enough for my baby sister.”

Nicole smiles at you, dimples marking her cheeks. “You're cute.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” The nerve!

“How much you care about her. It's really cute.”

You humph. “For a moment there I thought you were into me. I wouldn't blame you for it, though.”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her paperwork. “Don't get weird.”

 

* * *

 

Apparently, you weren't the only one who thought that, if the conversation you overheard one Saturday when you got home from a few drinks with Doc was any indication.

 

“Are you into her?” Waverly's voice is quiet, in consonance with the murmured noises of a night at the homestead.

“Wynonna?” Nicole asks.

You stop with the door open and look at Waverly and Nicole. They're both sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling as they chat. Two empty bottles of wine making it obvious why they don't notice your presence.

“Yea. Are you into her?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, your sister is beautiful, but I don’t really…” Nicole sighs, her head lolling against the headrest to face Waverly. “You know when you have this..., this- _connection_ with someone, but nothing has really happened yet and it makes you super aware of how close their hand is to yours, or of how they touch your arm when they laugh?”

Waverly nods awkwardly due to her position, her eyes intent on Nicole's lips, reading her words.

“We don’t have that.” Nicole continues. “I don’t feel that with your sister. Even if she isn’t, maybe, completely straight.”

_Huh._

“But that… does it have to work both ways?” Waverly asks, the alcohol doesn't seem to have gotten to her quite as much as it did Nicole. _Make me proud, sis!_ “I mean, the person might not be into you and you’ll still feel all those things if you are into them, no? There is no connection, you just wish there was, and then you notice her hand close to yours.” Waverly continues, her hand illustrating what she'd just said, her right pinky barely touching Nicole's left where her hand rests in her lap.

“I suppose...” Nicole agrees with her, nodding lazily. “Guess I’m not into Wynonna, then,” it's her drunk conclusion. “Or are you saying she's into me? Cause I don't think so.”

And you can't see Nicole's face from this angle, but you are sure, by the tone of her voice, even heavy with wine as it is, that she has just thrown at Waverly a very dimpled smile.

_Huh._

You're not one for jealousy, especially not of friends, but since when did Nicole and Waverly hang out together without you? And since when were they close enough to talk about who liked who? Cause a) this isn't high school and b) neither Nicole nor Waverly ever talked to _you_ about liking or not liking anyone. Suddenly they are bffs and you are the one being talked about? _Oh boy, this_ _ **is**_ _high school all over again._

 

* * *

 

Things become clearer the following week.

 

You're at a stakeout trying to catch the latest revenant Waverly managed to identify and Waverly is acting more fidgety than usual in the driver seat.

“Out with it,” you say without taking your eyes off the apparently empty warehouse.

“Out with what? The revenant?”

“No. I mean, that too. But you, you're all...” you try to mimic her, “restless.”

“Oh. It's nothing.”

“Waves.” You know when she wants to talk. Some tells don't change, no matter if you're 4 or 40.

“I was just wondering, you know?” _See?_ “Are you still trying to hook Nicole up with the mostly very straight female population of Purgatory?”

You turn to your sister. “Yea, why? Need my services now that 9 seconds is out of the picture? Cause I gotta tell you, I don’t think this is my calling.”

“No, no… well, kinda. I mean,” Waverly clears her throat, “would you point Nicole, you know,” she clears her throat again, “towards me?”

You squint at her. “Really?”

“Yep,” Waverly pops her answer.

“You’re into her?” You ask again, and you can hear the hint of disbelief in your own tone, but Waverly is jumping in Nicole's defense before you can explain yourself.

“Why wouldn’t I be? She’s beautiful and sweet and really kind and her voice gets really soft when she uses her lower register, you ever notice that?”

“Can’t say that I did, bu-”

“She also has a _killer_ smile and her hands-”

“ _O-kay,_ I get it. You’re into her. I just, you know, never knew you were into chicks,” you say as you watch her deflate.

“Yea,” Waverly sighs, “neither did I.”

 

* * *

 

Nicole has the night shift and you've got insomnia, so you're both sitting on the floor, behind her desk, working and drinking. Well, she's working. You're drinking.

 

“ _So_ ,” you start, smooth as a rhino, “it’s come to my attention that Waverly might not be straight.”

Nicole stops her reading and looks at you a little startled, “she told you that?”

“Kind of. So, you gonna ask her out?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you going to ask her out?” You ask in a  _duh_ tone.

“Are you kidding me? She’s gorgeous. And smart. And she used to be a cheerleader. I could never in a million years get a girl like that.” Nicole chuckles. “Girls like that used to shove me into lockers in high school. _If_ they were many. Cause I was bigger.”

You stare at her _._ “We'll come back to that later, but, for now, _come on_ , it’s Waverly. Can you imagine her bullying anyone?”

Nicole nods, conceding the point. “You’re right. Waverly’s too sweet for that. But I’m not really looking for a pity date, Wynonna.”

“Who said anything about pity? Look, I’m just saying, if you’re into her and promise to make an honest woman out of her, I might give you my blessing. I'll also shoot you if you make her cry.”

Nicole scrutinizes you and you do your best not to squirm. “Did she say something?”

You roll your eyes. “Ask her out. Or don’t. Whatever tickles your fancy.”

 

* * *

 

You didn't decide to have a bonfire at the homestead, but somehow Dolls, Doc and Nicole ended up there, and Waverly, then, suggested it.

It is a cold night, as it almost always is, and you're huddled with Doc and doing your best to annoy Dolls while also trying to discreetly pay attention to Waverly and Nicole talking closely together across the fire. You notice the shy smiles and blushed cheeks now, you see Waverly's constant search for contact for what it is. And maybe that means that you've seen enough for today.

“I'm cold,” you say and direct yourself to both Doc and Dolls. “Let's go in? I feel like beating you two at cards.”

You let the boys go first and follow them towards the house, stopping when you reach the porch. You turn and chance a glance at Waverly and Nicole. You see Nicole offer her hand hesitantly to Waverly. You can't see much from where you're standing, but you see enough. And you know your friend. Nicole is nervous.

Waverly takes her offer, though, intertwining her fingers with Nicole's.

You don't mean to be a creep, but you kind of want to know where this is going.

And Nicole is such a smooth fucker. Always offering her touch instead of taking it. And of course Waverly would feel a pull to that, she's been surrounded by callous people her whole life. And you don't even mean it in a bad way, in the bad way daddy and Willa dealt with Waverly. It's just... Well, no one would ever call you delicate, and of course Waverly is always your first thought, but things have a way of coming out of your mouth without much thought and sometimes you need to be alone to be able to breathe. You hurt without meaning to. And Champ was never capable of any kind of subtlety. Gus, for all the good she's done raising Waverly, and despite the soft spot she does have for the girl, isn't soft by any means. Nobody in this damn town seems to be. In this town, Nicole might as well be a unicorn. Red hair and strong morals and gentle hands. You might even trust her with Waverly.

You're still watching when Waverly initiates the kiss, brushing her nose with Nicole's and waiting for Nicole to meet her lips.

Finally, you turn away to meet the boys again.

 

 

Doc is already asleep under the blue glow of the TV as you and Dolls... talk is not really the word. You don't talk about yourself in so many words and Dolls barely talks at all. But there is an understanding - and that's where you're at when Waverly, alone, finally walks in, three poker losses and half a movie later.

“Nicole?” You ask her as she closes the door.

“She thought it better to go home.”

It's dark inside, but not enough to cover the sparkle in Waverly's eyes nor the heavy blush of her cheeks.

“And that's okay? That she decided not to stay over?”

“Yea, I mean, I kinda wanted her to stay but I've nev- I haven't... you know?”

You feel your lips pulling into a smirk, but you refrain from saying anything out loud.

_That old-fashioned, smooth, considerate, beautiful human being._

“But, hey,” you say under your breath, “you got the girl.”

Waverly sighs, dreamy and relieved at the same time. “I got the girl.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this have been sitting in my folder for forever. I'm happy to finally give birth to it.
> 
> Let me know if you guys find any awkward word choices, I wasn't really sure about a lot of it.


End file.
